I don't know what I'm doing I have so many unfinished stories. Um. Inspired by a tumblr post by user ghostyarscy, and cross posted onto AO3.

Enjoy.

Marinette hummed happily as she braced herself against the front display counter of the bakery with her elbows, idly flipping through a magazine containing an interview with one Adrien Agreste. She glanced up briefly at the bakery, noting the nearly empty storefront with a barely interested sweeping gaze, then turned her attention back to the interview with a tiny giggle. A tiny nudge in her leg caught her attention. She glanced down to see Tikki popping her head out of her purse. The kwami giggled mischievously.

"Reading about Adrien again?"

Marinette blushed lightly, but grinned as she replied lowly, "I can't help it! He's just too perfect!"

Tikki rolled her eyes fondly. "You need to just-"

"Marinette!" The designer squeaked and whirled around, one hand latching over her purse self-consciously. Tom Dupain raised an eyebrow, mustache twitching as he smiled at his daughter. "Could you help in the back for a few seconds? The supply truck just arrived and we could your help unloading it."

Marinette grinned, sticking her magazine under her arm as she nodded. "Of course, Papa."

"Great. You know where everything goes." Tom affectionately ruffled Marinette's hair as she passed, earning himself a bubbling titter in response. "I'll be back in a second, I just have to set out something really quick."

"Alright!" Marinette hummed and headed to the back, pulling out her magazine to read just a few more lines. A shy smile and a deep blush flooded her cheeks as she read the next question and answer.

Q: So, Adrien, we've all heard how you've finally joined the public school system. How have you been fitting in so far? Made any friends? Maybe met a certain someone?

A: It's been an absolute dream come true! I get along fairly well with pretty much everybody, but I do admit I have a main group of friends I stick to. Nino is my best friend, and as a result I often third wheel with him and his girlfriend, Alya. But that's alright. Alya's best friend Marinette is usually dragged along with their crazy shenanigans too, so it works out.

Q: You sound like you care about them a lot!

A: I… well, yeah. They're some of my closest friends. They're all so... so very important to me.

"I'm important to him! Very important!" Marinette squealed and bounced, clutching her magazine to her chest as she spun happily. Right into a firm chest. Her magazine fell from her hands as she sprang back, steadied only by the warm, firm grip on her upper arms. Marinette brushed her bangs from her eyes as she looked up into a kind, amused gaze. A wide grin lit her lips as she took in the familiar (but very different) form of her childhood friend. She threw her arms around the brunet's neck. "Garrin Girard, is that you?! Oh my gosh it's been so long!"

"Marinette!" A warm laugh met her greeting and strong arms returned her hug. Marinette peeked up, resting her chin on Garrin's broad chest as he ruffled her hair. "You're still the exact same size from a year ago!"

The designer pouted up at him. "Y-yeah? Well, you're… you're a brute!" She pulled away to gesture exaggeratedly at him. "Look at you! You've grown so much! You're all broad and tall and- and… tall!"

Garrin grinned. "That's what happens with puberty. Boys grow broad and tall and, dare I say, handsome."

Marinette rolled her eyes and lifted her hand, shaking it lightly back and forth in a so-so motion. "Eeeeh, seven out of ten."

He gasped, laying a hand on his chest as faux-hurt laced his voice. "You wound me, Dupain-Cheng. You wound me."

"You'll get over it." Marinette grabbed his wrist and stepped outside to the delivery truck, waving at Monsieur Girard as Garrin stepped up into the truck. "So, you've been in the countryside? I've missed my child-labor buddy."

Garrin laughed, passing Marinette a sack of sugar. "Yeah, my mom demanded that I spend some time with her, then… she got sick, so I stuck around a while longer in order to take care of her."

"Aww." Marinette frowned, stepping back so Garrin could hop out of the truck with two sacks of flour of his shoulder. "She okay now?"

Garrin frowned softly and looked away as he headed to the storage pallets.

Marinette trailed after him, watching him in concern. "She… ah… Early onset of Alzheimer's. She doesn't recognize me anymore, so… so we decided it would be best to just… hire some help, and I came back to help dad with the distribution service again. Maybe it was selfish of me, but… I couldn't take how often she would look at me and be… she wouldn't…"

"Hey…" Marinette shifted her bag to one arm so she could lay a hand on Garrin's shoulder. "I… I don't think that's selfish at all. Maybe someone else would have been able to stay, but I know you. You're kind, and sweet, and empathetic. You've always been more sensitive than others, Garry. Feel things deeper than most. And you have to do what's best for you and her. It's not like you left her alone."

Garrin smiled weakly at Mariette. "You're just as sweet as I remember, 'Nettie… Thanks."

Marinette slung her bag onto the pallet and smiled up at Garrin. "Any time, Gar- waitwatchout!"

She watched in horror as Garrin slipped on- oh wait that's the magazine from earlier oops. He flew back, the flour bags slipping from his shoulders and landing on the ground beside him with a thud. The first sack that hit the ground popped open, sending a puff of flour floating up. The second bag quickly landed on top of the first. The flour billowed up, covering Garrin and Marinette, who had bent to help him up, with a fine, white coating. The two stared at each other in shock. Marinette blinked flour out of her eyes and burst into laughter, slumping on the ground beside a sniggering Garrin.

"Y-you look, pfft, ridiculous!" Marinette gasped, slumping against the other, who wrapped a steadying arm around her shoulders. He chuckled, fluffing her hair and was overcome by a new wave of giggles when flour floated briefly around Marinette's face like a cloud.

"Yeah? Well at least I don't look like Puff the Marshmallow Man!" He grinned and pulled himself to his feet, nearly slipping as he pulled Marinette up too. With a squeal, Marinette pitched forward into Garrin's chest. (He prayed she couldn't feel the way his heart picked up into double time). She giggled up at him, pushing off the delivery boy and shifting to lean against the wall as Garrin leaned down to scoop up the magazine. His grin fell slightly at the sight of the doodled hearts around the Agreste interview, especially decorating the picture of the blond on the side of the page. "Who is this?"

"A classmate of mine," she murmured, sighing softly as she calmed from the laughter. Marinette began threading her fingers through her hair to free the strands from the flour. "He's a model. Kind, gentle, occasionally funny. The whole package. Sometimes he reminds me of you."

Garrin glanced up from the magazine to look at Marinette. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She shrugged and gave up on her hair, heading to the corner to nab the push broom and dustpan. "Come on. Let's get this cleaned up."

Garrin saluted. "Aye aye!"

His gaze fell back on the magazine. Garrin scooped it up, shaking it to dislodge the loose flour from the glossy pages. He flipped it closed and- noting the model also on the cover of the issue, hearts and flowers and smiley's circling Adrien's head- rolled it up. Clearing his throat, he stood and lightly caught Marinette's wrist as she moved to hand him the dustpan to hold for her. Her wide blue eyes flew up to his. Garrin's heart leapt into his throat in nerves as he took in the flour dusting across her nose and cheeks, highlighting the blue in her eyes and hair. He coughed nervously as Marinette's forehead creased in concern, causing flour to build lightly in the little wrinkles.

"Um." He swallowed nervously, scratching the back of his neck with the magazine. "Marinette, I… I know it's been a while since, um, since we've seen each other, but I can already tell you're just as kind and loving and, oh gosh, even more beautiful than you were a year ago, so, I-I was wondering if… if maybe we could catch dinner and a movie together Friday? Alone?"

Marinette seemed to still before leaning away a bit, and the light pressure pulling from his grip on her wrist was enough to make Garrin drop his hold. His lungs tightened in his chest as he took in her expression, cutting off his air supply. Pity swelled in Marinette's gaze. Everything in her countenance seemed to droop with sadness as she steeled herself to crush her friend's heart.

"Oh, Garrin, I…" Her voice was laden with a mix of regret and reluctant determination. "I-I'm so sorry, but… I… I can't…"

Garrin swallowed, hoping to clear the tightness in his throat. Unsuccessfully, as it turns out, as both teenagers could hear the hitch in his voice as he stumbled over an apology. Marinette cringed. "N-No, I'm sorry, I should have, I mean, I already guessed, but, I-I just… I should go."

Pressure built behind his eyes as he pivoted on his heel and stiffly marched outside. Garrin only had to glance at his father, who was finishing up unloading the truck, to receive a nod and permission to climb into the passenger side of the delivery truck for the rest of the stop. He clenched his fists as he tried to reign in his emotions, glancing down when paper crinkled in his grip. Garrin unrolled the magazine in his hands, staring almost blankly at the blond printed on the front cover. He ground his teeth.

"This is all your fault… I remember my little 'Nettie… I always thought we… That we would… Dammit…" Garrin pressed the magazine to his forehead, inhaling deeply. "I always thought she could be mine… But I guess she likes people like him. The lucky bastard probably doesn't even realize who he has wrapped around his finger."

A chill suddenly crept through his body as the magazine guarding his face darkened to a purple. Garrin paused as calm quickly smothered the initial alarm that had swelled, slumping in his seat. His hands fell limply to his lap as clouds smothered his thoughts, leaving him emotionally empty of anything but regret, sadness, and anger. He shivered as a cool, smooth voice swept gently through his mind.

"It's always a shame when our romantic endeavors never turn out the way we wish, isn't it? I can help you be someone she would accept with enthusiasm, as long as you find me something I myself wish to acquire."

Garrin blinked sluggishly, gaze focusing on the crinkled magazine. "I could… be like him?"

"With the power I can grant you, you can be like anyone you want to be."

"And she'll love me?"

"How could she not? Just remember, my Chameleon, the Ladybug and Chat Noir Miraculous are mine!"

"Then you have my service, Hawk Moth."